


The Civilist

by amclove



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bakery, M/M, Oneshot, Uni AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amclove/pseuds/amclove
Summary: Brian can’t keep the frown off his face. As he approaches the case, he can see that one by one the scones have been picked off to the point that, now, there are only two left, and there are still three people in front of him. This math doesn’t bode well in his favor.ORThe AU in which Brian and Roger meet under tense circumstances at their local bakery.





	The Civilist

    Brian sends an impatient glance to the clock on the far left wall. He has approximately ten minutes in which to sprint to his 8:30 class, and all he needs is to reach the front of this God-forsaken line to get his scone. The bakery opens at seven, and he generally arrives on the dot just to get the scone and take a seat to relax before his morning class. However, today, Brian’s ten-year-old alarm hadn’t rang, and he therefore hadn’t woken until quarter to eight. A swipe of his toothbrush and a ratty hoodie later, he was down the stairs and racing to his favorite bakery with little to no time to truly enjoy the morning.

    He can’t keep the frown off his face. As he approaches the case, he can see that one by one the scones have been picked off to the point that, now, there are only two left, and there are still three people in front of him. This math doesn’t bode well in his favor.

    Brian flexes his fingers out of a nervous habit and tries not to panic. He doesn’t have a back-up baked-good. This has never happened to him before so why would he have a second choice? If, God forbid, he can’t get a scone, should he instead get a muffin? And which kind? Or maybe a mini quiche? There’s three different kinds of those too. But if he isn’t in the mood for any of the options they have, is he expected to simply order a coffee and put a smile over his starvation until he has the chance to get a quick lunch five hours from now?

    And then it’s his turn, and there is one scone left. A sigh of relief escapes him and, happily forgetting all the overthinking he’d just done in the span of twenty seconds, he says, “I’ll take the scone, thanks.”

    Almost immediately from behind comes a cry of, “That’s _my_ scone!” and Brian turns to see who could be causing such a fuss. As it happened, the culprit is a young man around his age or younger with a head of soft, dirty-blond hair and the biggest blue eyes Brian has ever seen in real life. The man’s look of total devastation and mounting anger on top of his appearance give way to a sense of righteous, angelic fury, and it’s all enough to make Brian quite speechless.

    What does he even mean that it’s ‘his scone,’ as if the taller man hasn’t been waiting in line for almost twenty minutes the same as he has and just as anxious about not receiving his breakfast. Part of Brian wants to tell this asshole to shove it but, fortunately for the both of them, weekly meditation has given Brian an exponentially kinder temperament. To circumvent the brawl that is threatening to spark in the middle of a bakery, he suggests, “Why don’t we share it?”

    The man clearly hadn’t expected that, and he blinks his big eyes twice as he realises what had been asked. “I…” He flushes, and it’s clear that he now feels foolish for having reacted so brashly. “I would like that,” he admits. His face lights up suddenly and he steps toward the case of baked goods. “What sort of muffin do you like?”

    “Why?” Brian asks, confused.

    “Because you can get the scone and we’ll share it, and I’ll get a muffin and we’ll split that as well. Then it’ll be like we each have one full treat.”

    Brian’s confusion is replaced by a grin, pleasantly surprised. “Oh. Sure. Well, I prefer cranberry…” At the stranger’s nose-crinkle, he amends, “But blueberry is fine too.” A smile reappears and both men pay for their orders.

    “I’m Roger, by the way,” the young man informs Brian as they take a seat by the window.

    “Brian May. You know, you really didn’t have to…” Brian gestures to the muffin.

    “After I made such an ass of myself about a scone?” Roger scoffs. “I had no choice. I’d like to say that I’m usually more fair-tempered, but that would be blatantly false.”

    Surprised by Roger’s blunt self-deprecation, Brian laughs and feels rude almost immediately, trying to cover the reaction with his hand.

     “Don’t worry about it. Fred laughs at me too.” At Brian’s look, Roger clarifies, “My flat-mate. A right laugh, he is.”

    “If he’s anything like you, I can imagine,” Brian agrees, grinning.

    “Right,” Roger says with a chuckle. “We’re trying to make a band but it’s not as easy as we thought. Not sure what gave us the impression that it’d be easy, but anyway. Fred’s certainly something else. Have you got one?”

    “Got one of what? A band?”

    “A flat-mate.”

    “Oh, no. Just me, myself, and I. I’m at uni.”

    “Us too!” Roger exclaims. “I’m in dentistry, God knows why, and Freddie’s in design. You?”

    “Astrophysics.”

    Roger whistles, sipping his coffee. “I didn’t realise I was in the presence of a genius.”

    “I normally glow, but I turned it off this morning,” Brian says, and Roger stares at him for a second. “I’m joking.”

    “Try cracking a smile and I’d be able to tell! I might move to bio but I don’t know. I only got into dentistry for my dad, but let me tell you, it sucks a fat one.”

    Brian chokes a little on his half of the scone. “You certainly speak your mind, don’t you?”

    “You get used to it. So have you got class today?”

    Brian chokes again and looks at the clock. “The first started about ten minutes ago. _Fuck_ , I’m late.” He scrambles out of his chair, simultaneously yanking his jacket back over his shoulders. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

    “I’m known to have that effect on people,” Roger says, teasingly batting his eyelashes at Brian, who just snorts. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?”

    “I usually get here much earlier than I did today. This hopefully will never happen again.” Roger blinks, and Brian quickly shakes his head. “I don’t mean sitting here with you. I mean my waking up past my alarm. Uh.”

    “It’s okay,” Roger says easily. “I get it. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and your professor won’t ream you for showing up so late.”

    Brian nods. He takes a step, and then looks again at Roger’s mess of wavy hair and the flowered jacket that fits like it was made for his slim frame. “I…” Brian says, brain dead on all accounts. “Oh, fuck it.” He drops back into the chair, and Roger’s smile comes back. “I already read three chapters ahead anyway,” his companion says. “And I have two hours before my next class.”

    “A good chunk of time to fill,” Roger observes. “What shall we do with that time?”

    “Tell me about that band of yours. You wouldn’t happen to be in need of a guitarist, would you?”

**Author's Note:**

> dead ass wrote this after i watched this tedtalk https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn6elsrKz70 because he told this story. so i dont own the idea per se just the inspiration for it. so thank you steven for giving a talk that had such a cute gay meet-cute that i NEEDED to write a maylor fic for it. bless. much thanks


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